


Get a Grip

by jadehqknb



Series: Ship Fics [35]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Arm Wrestling, Awkward Confession, First Kiss, M/M, Reunion, but has deep seeded feelings too, established OiMatsun, hanamaki is thirsty for iwaizumi, minor manga spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28961367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadehqknb/pseuds/jadehqknb
Summary: He’s prepared for a good time as he rides the elevator to the hotel room Oikawa’s rented for tonight’s festivities, his arms laden with booze and snacks. Despite his love of going out, Hanamaki is grateful for the low-key plans. For one, being in a room just the four of them makes it easier to catch up. With no crowds, there’s less noise (save for what they make themselves when they are together) and also, without current employment, his funds are rather tight.What he isn’t prepared for is Iwaizumi when he opens the door to Hanamaki’s knock.He looks good. Better than good. A snacc if you will. No, he’s a whole ass meal. Hanamaki thought he projected BDE back in high school but now… now he is the epitome of it. Shirtsleeve straining biceps, a nearly Dorito shaped body. Hanamaki both can’t wait and fears for his sanity at the moment he catches a glimpse of his ass.“Hey, earth to Makki!”Hanamaki blinks, feels a blush flooding over the back of his neck when he finds Iwaizumi staring back at him and realizes he’s been standing in the hallway quietly losing his shit.Fuck.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Iwaizumi Hajime
Series: Ship Fics [35]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1137458
Comments: 9
Kudos: 33





	Get a Grip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stacysmash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stacysmash/gifts).



> An exceptionally LATE birthday present. Thank you for your patience Stacy, I hope you enjoy it!

When the Seijoh four had gone their temporarily separate ways, none of them were of the illusion things would stay the same. It was impossible. People grew up, they changed, adopted new habits and thinking patterns, cultivated by their environment, by the people around them. The only thing they _did_ promise wouldn’t change was them being friends. 

So far so good. 

By some miracle, they’ve managed to find a week of time where they are all back in Japan at the same time, able to get together for at least _one_ night of fun and, if they were lucky Hanamaki thought, some shenanigans. 

He’s prepared for a good time as he rides the elevator to the hotel room Oikawa’s rented for tonight’s festivities, his arms laden with booze and snacks. Despite his love of going out, Hanamaki is grateful for the low-key plans. For one, being in a room just the four of them makes it easier to catch up. With no crowds, there’s less noise (save for what they make themselves when they are together) and also, without current employment, his funds are rather tight. 

What he _isn’t_ prepared for is Iwaizumi when he opens the door to Hanamaki’s knock. 

He looks good. Better than good. A snacc if you will. No, he’s a whole ass meal. Hanamaki thought he projected BDE back in _high school_ but now… now he is the epitome of it. Shirtsleeve straining biceps, a nearly Dorito shaped body. Hanamaki both can’t wait and fears for his sanity at the moment he catches a glimpse of his ass. 

“Hey, earth to Makki!” 

Hanamaki blinks, feels a blush flooding over the back of his neck when he finds Iwaizumi staring back at him and realizes he’s been standing in the hallway quietly losing his shit. 

Fuck. 

“Hey buddy, how’ve you been?” Hanamaki exclaims, awkwardly trying to hug his _friend_ with his arms still full. 

“I’m fine, are _you_ ok?” Iwaizumi asks, taking the beer from Hanamaki’s grasp and stepping back to allow him room to enter. 

Hanamaki slips off his shoes, almost falling over because he just _can’t_ get a grip. Which is exactly what he feels on his arm. Iwaziumi’s hand is wrapped around his arm, helping him stay upright and Hanamaki has never wanted the floor to open and swallow him whole more. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he lies, finally managing to get his second shoe off. He pulls from Iwaizumi’s grasp, half stumbling into the room. 

“Woah, did you get started without us?” Mattsun asks from his reclined position on the chaise lounge. 

Hanamaki opens his mouth to tell him to shut up but it’s then he actually takes in the room. 

The _suite_ that Oikawa got for them for the night. 

He lets out a low whistle. “Dang, someone got a good sponsorship!” 

“Only the best for my best boys!” Oikawa croons from the mini kitchen in the corner. 

And if Hanamaki turns a little green with envy, well, no one can really blame him. 

Depositing the snacks on the counter, Hanamaki welcomes Oikawa into a bone crushing hug. No matter what anyone says, for all his faults, Oikawa is dedicated to the people he cares about. 

“Don’t tell me you’re cooking,” Hanamaki teases as they part. 

An arm around his neck has him stumbling again, but he’s held up, fighting against a familiar hold, fingers seeking Mattsun’s rib cage in retaliation. “Are you fucking nuts? _This_ guy cook? The only recipe he knows is unlock phone, select Uber eats and menu selections.” 

“Screw you, Issei! I’m learning!” Oikawa pouts and wow, it’s so _weird_ to hear him use his name so casually.

Because while they’ve been a four ring circus since first year of high school, these two are now very much a pair well beyond platonic. At first, a part of him he’s embarrassed to think about now, worried their shift into the realm of romance would disrupt the vibe of the whole group. It was a selfish thought, Hanamaki knows this, but it was there all the same. 

Now, seeing them all together, he realizes how foolish it was. Because Mattsun still has him by the neck and Oikawa is still pouting with Iwaizumi telling him to stop being such a baby. 

Ah, the beauty of friendship. 

“Mattsun is this you taking your work home? Not enough bodies to bury, you gotta strangle Makki?” Iwaizumi asks, seemingly unconcerned. Same as usual. 

Mattsun chuckles, gives Hanamaki a noogie just to be a shit, then lets him go. It’s a blow to his pride really. ‘Back in the day’ he would have been able to get out of the hold but tonight he’s distracted by things like feelings and the ways things change but always stay the same. 

Since when did he get so sappy?

“I’m used to Oikawa being lost in space, but you? Not so much,” Iwaizumi remarks, handing Hanamaki a cold beer. 

He takes it with a muttered thanks, downing half of it in one go, suddenly feeling warm. But it’s probably just because of Mattsun’s blindside chokehold. Not because he’s under Iwaizumi’s scrutiny, not because seeing those hazel eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and genuine concern resurrects feelings he was certain were buried at the end of high school. 

It isn’t often he’s at a loss for words, but he’s hard pressed to explain why he’s being such a spaz. 

“It’s no biggie.” He shrugs, hoping Iwaizumi will take the hint to just drop it and let him be. 

He does, but gives a look that lets Hanamaki know he doesn’t buy it for a second.

“So, what _are_ we eating? I’m starving,” Hanamaki asks. 

“Got a sushi platter,” Iwaizumi replies. “Should be here soon.”

As if summoned by his words, there’s a knock at the door and Iwaizumi goes to answer it, thanking the delivery man and taking the bags of food. 

When everything is set out on the table, they dig in and it’s then they fall into conversation. Oikawa is recounting running into chibi-chan in Brazil despite them all having seen the texts, but somehow hearing the stories in person make them funnier and soon Hanamaki’s sides are hurting from laughing as Oikawa recounts actually eating sand the first time he dove for a ball. 

That naturally leads into Iwaizumi’s adventures in California, including running into Ushijima. Oikawa’s nose wrinkles but a swift kick from Iwaizumi under the table keeps him quiet. “He’s not that bad, you need to get over it,” he says around another bite of food. 

“So how is he?” Mattsun asks, wagging his eyebrows. He leans into Oikawa’s space just enough to be noticeable. 

“He’s dedicated, focused, but less rigid than before. Like, he actually took some of my advice.” 

They all perk up at this. “Wait, why didn’t you tell us about _that_?” Oikawa asks. 

Iwaizumi just shrugs. “Because it wasn’t a big deal. Come on, guys, high school was high school. Can’t we grow up just a little bit?” 

“Boring,” Hanamaki sighs, happy to see them all chuckle, even if Iwaizumi is rolling his eyes as he does. 

“Speaking of Wakatoshi,” Mattsun puts in, looking at Hanamaki, “you should tell’em about runnin’ into Tendou in Paris.” 

Hanamaki could kiss the man, that is if he weren’t already tied down and weren’t like a brother to him. Because he knows what he’s doing. He’s guiding the conversation back to a time where Hanamaki was still employed as a hired guest, rating hotels. He would still be doing it, in fact, if he hadn’t had to stay home to take care of his mom. For the most part it doesn’t bother him and he knows he shouldn’t feel shame for it. But somehow, being among his closest friends who are so successful, he can’t help the disappointment clawing at his throat. 

“I was completely lost,” Hanamaki begins, grinning to push away his dark thoughts. “Unsurprisingly, I couldn’t manage a lick of French. Even with Google translate I was struggling. I was just about to give up ever getting back to my hotel when I heard that sing-songy voice we all knew so well.

Only this time, instead of making me cringe and want to punch something, I ran towards it. Tendou, boy has _he_ changed. At least his hair. If it weren’t for that voice, I would have thought I had the wrong guy but I knew it was him. That and he seemed to recognize me right away, which, I don’t know what that says now that I think about it, but I was damn glad then.” 

They all laugh as he goes on about Tendou ending up taking him on a tour of the city before finally helping him return to his room. “It was surprisingly fun,” he admits. 

Now on the track of past memories, they fall into talking about their old teammates and rivals, wondering where some are and advising on those they’ve caught word about. Old bets seemingly long forgotten crop up and Hanamaki, bravado enhanced by alcohol, looks Iwaizumi dead in the eye and says, “You still owe me that rematch, ya know.” 

Iwaizumi looks momentarily confused then his brow clears and he laughs. “You _remember_ that?” 

Turns out, Hanamaki has been remembering a lot of things as they’ve all been talking. Like how in second year he took to noticing Iwaizumi more than the others. At first, in his young adolescent mind he thought it was just admiration, an appreciation of all the hard work and dedication Iwaizumi put into everything he did. Maybe even a little envy at how effortless he made it look despite Hanamaki knowing the contrary. And then, by third year, he knew what those feelings were, but he was too scared to make a move. He’d convinced himself Iwaizumi would never reciprocate and by then their foursome were so tightly knit together, it wasn’t worth the risk. 

But the feelings never really died, he can see that now. They were just buried deep under layers of snark and protective sarcasm. Shut behind doors locked with denial, the keys throw far away. The distance helped, not seeing Iwaizumi nearly every day, not hearing his voice, punching his shoulder then running away for fear of broken bones in retaliation. 

Not that he ever really believed Iwaizumi would ever hurt him. 

All of this rushes through his mind in a millisecond but he ignores it again in favor of what’s easier. “Hell yeah, I remember, you bastard!” Hanamaki flexes, ignoring Mattsun and Oikawa’s snickers at his admittedly lackluster bicep. Instead, he shoves aside plates and glasses, thunking his elbow onto the table, palm out. “Let’s do this.”

Iwaizumi at least respects him enough not to laugh in his face. He mimics Hanamaki’s position, clasping palm to palm. His hand is warm but not as calloused as Hanamaki expects. Maybe he has an exfoliation routine.

Why is he thinking about that? Focus, Hiro, focus!

“Best out of three?” Iwaizumi asks, a little smirk playing at his lip and he looks so damn attractive. It leaves Hanamaki rethinking being in charge of his own life choices because he’ll get lost in those eyes if he stares too much longer. 

“Yeah, winner takes all,” Hanamaki remarks.

“All of what?” 

“I don’t know, whatever, let’s just do this!” 

Iwaizumi is laughing again and Hanamaki takes advantage of the distraction because he’s a dirty cheater like that. Know thyself and all that. In one swift motion he pushes against Iwaizumi’s hand, tilting his arm almost fully to the table. But Iwaizumi is just so damn strong that, even caught off guard, he’s able to hold his own, the back of his hand hovering just shy of a victory for Hanamaki. 

“You’re such a bastard,” Iwaizumi says. His voice is strained but not much and Hanamaki doesn’t know whether to be turned on or annoyed that he’s so strong he can talk normally while Hanamaki is using all his strength just to keep him in place. 

“Takes… one… to know… one,” he strains. 

“Go Iwa-chan, go!” Oikawa cries. 

“Come on, Makki, give it up, you’re gonna strain something at best and break something at worst,” Mattsun puts in. 

“Hey! A little support wouldn’t kill—” Hanamaki starts but ends on a grunt when Iwaizumi fully retracts their positions and thunks his hand to the table. 

“Round one to Iwa-chan!” 

Hanamaki grumbles as he wipes his hand against his pant leg to dispel the sweat. 

“You sure you wanna do that again? You look a little winded there,” Iwaizumi teases lightly. 

Narrowing his eyes, Hanamaki repositions for the next round. “Bring it on, bitch.”

Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi takes his hand again. “This time we go on my count. One… two… three!” 

They engage at the same time and Hanamaki’s bicep is screaming at him to have mercy and just give in. Iwaizumi is vastly stronger than him—has been for the entirety of their friendship—but that’s never stopped Hanamaki from hoping that, one day, he might best him. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much, but it took hold all those years ago and never let go. 

Same as his feelings for the man apparently. 

Both are a lost cause, so he might as well go for broke. Reaching out his foot, he finds the back of Iwaizumi’s knee and digs his toe into it. Iwaizumi squawks, jerking back and Hanamaki is gratified to learn among the things that have not changed are Iwaizumi’s ticklish spots. 

The entire table shifts, glasses and plates rattling as Mattsun snickering into Oikawa’s shoulder. 

“You brat!” Iwaizumi shouts. In one movement, he’s out of his seat with his arm around Hanamaki’s waist, carrying him to the ground. The impact is heavy but not too hard and Hanamaki is laughing more out of shock than anything else. He grasps those beef shoulders and manages to flip them for a brief moment before Iwaizumi’s superior strength and training wins the day and he’s pinned under him. 

They’re both breathing hard face to face and Hanamaki’s world narrows to just him, forgetting everything else for just a moment. 

Until Oikawa opens his mouth. “Oh for fuck’s sake, just kiss him already, Hajime!” 

Hanamaki and Iwaizumi look over to where Oikawa and Mattsun are watching them, the former annoyed and the latter amused. 

Hanamaki exclaims ‘what’ the same time Iwaizumi yells at Oikawa to shut his mouth. 

Mattsun chuckles as Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Oh my god! The sexual tension in this room is driving _me_ crazy and I don’t even want either of you!”

“Ok rude,” Hanamaki puts in because, ya know, humor shield and all that because what exactly is happening right now?

“Dudes, please,” Mattsun puts in, pushing Oikawa gently to a standing position so he can get out of his seat. He takes his boyfriend’s hand, pulling him towards another door Hanamaki didn’t notice before. “Ya can have the big bed, just try n’ keep it down.” The two of them disappear into what apparently is another room and Hanamaki is left with his head spinning. 

Hanamaki is still staring at the closed door when a gentle touch to his chin guides his face back to Iwaizumi’s. “Obviously, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you, but,” he takes a deep breath, “I’ve missed you. Like, _really_ missed you and I like you a hell of a lot. I wanted to tell you, but long distance, it just,” he shrugs, looking away for a moment. When he looks back his expression is soft and it’s like a mask has slipped off his face that Hanamaki didn’t even know was there but now that it’s gone, he can’t believe he never noticed it before. 

Perhaps it’s because he’s been so busy hiding behind his own. 

“I really like you, too, I have for a long time. But I never thought I had a chance and I didn’t want to fuck up what we have, all four of us, I like you Iwaizumi. I want you, even if it means we’re apart for a time.” 

That was a hell of a lot easier to say than he thought it would be. 

Iwaizumi smiles, cupping Hanamaki’s face and leans in closer. “Can I kiss you?” he asks. 

“Please do,” Hanamaki replies and then Iwaizumi’s lips are on his sending fire over his whole body. He clings tighter, wrapping his legs around Iwaizumi’s waist, moaning into his mouth when they part lips to slide tongues against each other. 

Iwaizumi breaks away to kiss a line down Hanamaki’s neck, hands wandering under his shirt. “I know this is fast, that we have a lot to talk about and everything, but _god_ I just wanna get you naked and take care of you.” 

Hanamaki flushes, arches into the hold and touches, breathing out, “I’ve been yours for a long time, Iwaizumi. Time to stake your claim.” 

“Oh my god, that is some of the cheesiest but also sexiest shit and I don’t even know what to do with you.” 

“Whatever you want,” Hanamaki replies and Iwaizumi stops, leans up to look in his eyes. 

“You mean that, don’t you? You trust me that much.” 

“Of course,” Hanamaki says, confused at Iwaizumi’s confusion. He runs his hand through that spiked hair and smiles. “You’d never hurt me, not on purpose anyway.” 

Iwaizumi stares at him a moment more before nodding once and pushing up to his feet. He reaches a hand down, pulling Hanamaki to his feet. “Then let’s get started,” he says, pulling him close. 

And it’s now that Hanamaki sees when things change, sometimes they can be for the better. 


End file.
